


1x01: Resurrection

by Emcee



Series: The Nyazian Prophecies [1]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Boy Slayer, College, Demons, F/M, Mutually Unrequited, Not Canon Compliant, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampires, Watchers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emcee/pseuds/Emcee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four months after fighting Marcus Hamilton with Angel, Connor has settled into a fairly normal life (with the occasional vampire slayage). But a new vampire leader named Clarice has plans for Connor. He is called into action with help from a Watcher sent by Angel... Andrew Wells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not compliant with the Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel comic continuations... Because it actually predates them by two years. I had them posted elsewhere, but I still like them, so I'd like to have them here as well. This is a virtual series and each "episode" includes "casting" for various roles. There is more information [at the series website](http://www.frodis.net/nyazian)

The campus was bathed in darkness. Only a few flickering lamps lit the path towards the dormitories. It was quiet, no students out on the grounds. They were all in the dormitories, the libraries, and the late-night coffee houses.  
  
All except one.   
  
She was young, probably no more than a freshman. Her long, blond hair flew in front of her face as she stumbled down the concrete path. Her shoulder bled freely, staining her white camisole. She tripped over her feet, slamming to the ground. Her palms scrapped against the ground, the skin grating off.  
  
"Help me!" She cried out, scrambling back to her feet. Her head snapped back, desperately searching for the predator that stalked her. She let out a gasp as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around to face the arrival.  
  
It was a boy.   
  
This couldn't have been the one chasing her. He smiled, his sweet face innocent and unassuming. His blue eyes appeared friendly. His wiry form was completely unintimidating as he clutched several large books to his chest.  
  
"What's wrong?" He furrowed his brow, cocking his head in question. "I heard you scream."  
  
She turned her head. What had happened to her pursuer? She licked her lips, relieved not to see any sign of them. Maybe they had given up. "There was someone after me. They've been chasing me all the way from the CoHo."  
  
He frowned slightly, looking behind her and searching the barren path. The corners of his mouth rose in a gentle smile. "Well, there doesn't seem to be anyone after you now."  
  
Pushing her hair out of her face, she nervously bit her lip. "Maybe its because you're here. You scared them off. Do you think..." She smiled back at him, batting her eyelashes. "You could walk me to my sorority house?"  
  
She could feel his eyes on her, raking up and down her form. He readjusted the books in his arms, freeing a hand. He held it out to her. "Come on."  
  
Accepting the hand, she smiled gratefully. "Thanks a lot. I really hate walking alone."  
  
"What's your name?" He asked, leading her down the path.  
  
"Stephanie," she replied.  
  
He looked out over the campus, seemingly looking for what it was chasing her. Well, he certainly was chivalrous. "You probably shouldn't be walking at night," he commented lightly, "You never know what's lurking."  
  
Stephanie smirked, her features contorting. Her brow fell, wrinkled. She ran her tongue along her lengthening fangs. She felt the throb of his heartbeat, the warmth of his blood. "Oh, I have a pretty good idea."  
  
She hissed, closing in on his jugular.  
  
The heavy books he carried connected hard with her nose. She stumbled backwards, her wrist snapping as he twisted it.   
  
Stephanie wiped her nose. Blood dripped from the nostril. She glared at the boy, hissing softly. "I'm not much of a fighter."  
  
He reached into his jacket, withdrawing a wooden stake. He held it up, smirking. "Demon's a bad occupation for you then, isn't it?"  
  
Stephanie growled. She leapt up, letting her foot connect hard with his mouth. The boy flew backwards, tumbling into the bushes lining the path.  
  
"Don't like to." She strode to the bushes, snarling as she approached his crumpled form. "Doesn't mean I can't."  
  
She gaped in surprise as he recovered from the hit, leaping into the air. No mere human could have managed such a jump. He balled his fist, slamming it into Stephanie's stomach.  
  
She lurched backwards, hitting the pavement on her back. She shook her head in disbelief. "It was you who was after me?"  
  
"I was actually just coming from the library." He slammed the stake into her chest. Stephanie's mouth widened in shock as her body disintegrated into dust.   
[  
](http://frodis.net/nyazian/dvd/disc1/ep1/connor.jpg)Connor Riley gave a cough as the vampire dust blew into his face. "But it's nice to know there's another vampire hunter around."  
  
He tucked the stake back into his jacket. He cracked his jaw, tasting the coppery taste of blood on his tongue. It wasn't a bad kick. She had split his lower lip.   
  
He knelt down, picking up his scattered books. As he picked up _The C++ Programming Language_ the cover fell away. He groaned softly. "Oh great. Now I'm going to have to pay a fine."  


* * *

 

**The Nyazian Prophecies**

**Starring**

| 

| 

|   
  
---|---|---|---  
  
**Vincent Kartheiser**

| 

**Anna Paquin**

| 

**Bret Harrison**

| 

**and Tom Lenk  
as Andrew Wells**  
  
  


* * *

**Guest Starring**

Romola Garai  
Mageina Tovah  
Meredith Monroe

and Charisma Carpenter  
as Cordelia Chase

**Written By**

Emcee

* * *

Connor stepped into the bright light of the CoHo. The lighting was harsh on his eyes after being in the dark night. He blinked, trying to readjust to the drastic change.  
  
The CoHo was filled with small tables. Students, piles of books in front of them, occupied each.  
  
Connor sighed deeply, licking the blood off of his lower lip. He cracked his neck, sniffing the air. He darted his gaze around the room. Was the vampire a solo artist or was there a gang?  
  
No, he couldn't smell any vampires in the room. They gave off a distinct scent: like clotted blood and ash.  
  
"Chess team get a little rough?"  
  
Connor turned towards the counter. He smiled as he saw the pretty girl next to the cash register, leaning against the counter. Her dyed purple hair was vibrant in the light. She was smiling brightly at him.  
  
He gave another quick sweep around the room. Everything seemed safe enough. He bounded up to the counter. "What can I say? Those nerds can be really mean when they want to be." He cast a gentle smile to her. "So what's up, Sal? You don't normally work this late."  
  
Salome Simpson wrinkled her nose as she picked up a rag. She began to wipe down the counter. "Ugh. Freddie didn't show up for his shift. I was begged to work a double. Which sucks to the highest degree. It's like they forget I go to school here too." She sighed deeply, pushing her hair out of her face. "You want some coffee?"  
  
Connor put a hand to his bleeding lower lip. "No, ice would be good thought." He ran a hand through his hair. Vampire dust slid out of it. "If I have coffee, I'll be up all night driving Jamie crazy."  
  
Salome put some ice in a towel. The purple beaded bracelets on her left hand clicked against the cross dangling from her wrist. She held out the makeshift icepack to Connor. "I was under the impression you did that anyway."  
  
Connor scowled, putting the icepack against his lower lip. He watched Salome bend over to pick up a fork that had fallen to the ground. He leaned over to observe her closer. "So... When do you get off work?"  
  
Salome looked up, arching a brow. She rose back to her feet, smoothing her hands down her faded jeans. "Closing." She turned to a customer who had come to the counter. "So what have you got here?"  
  
Connor watched Salome go about her business. He had met her the first time he had come into the CoHo. He never saw her outside, despite his best efforts. He didn't know much about her. They didn't really talk outside of some feeble flirting. She was nice-- always sneaking him free food during his study sessions. He knew she was an Art History student. He also knew she had a strange purple design tattooed across her breasts. He wasn't sure if she knew he knew that. That information came from her tendency of wearing low cut blouses and leaning over a lot.  
  
"So why do you ask, Chess Club?" Connor snapped back to reality. Salome had finished with the customer and leaned against the cash register. Her head was cocked in query.  
  
Connor moved the ice away from his mouth, grinning broadly. "I thought we could go out."  
  
Salome rang up the sale, arching a brow at Connor. She cast him a flirtatious smile. "Why would you want to go out with me?"  
  
Connor leaned against his textbooks, falling easily into the familiar routine he and Salome had developed. "Would you believe purple is my favourite colour?"  
  
Salome slid back over to Connor. She leaned in close, her lips only a breath from his. He could feel her warmth, the thrum of her heartbeat. "How many times have you asked me out in the last year?"  
  
Connor pulled away, ticking off of his fingers, calculating in his head. He furrowed his brow. "Oh... Two hundred... Give or take?"  
  
"Pretty much every time you come in here." Salome nodded, leaning casually back. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why the persistence?"  
  
He didn't have the heart to tell her that it wasn't so much an obsession with dating her as it was just fun. He was a creature of habit and the idle flirtations gave him a good laugh.   
  
True, Salome was pretty and he definitely wouldn't be unhappy were she to say yes, but he wasn't expecting that any time soon. "Just making conversation."  
  
Salome smirked, hopping the counter and sauntering to a vacated table. "Good to know. As usual, I am much to busy."  
  
Connor followed behind Salome, peeking over her shoulder as she began to clean up the table. "You must have some time after you're done work and before classes. You know, at night."  
  
Salome turned back to him, clutching a coffee cup in one hand and a plate with a half-eaten croissant in the other. Her dark eyes darted around the room quickly. "You would be surprised how busy my nights are."  
  
Connor's head jerked up. He smelled something acrid on the air. Ash and blood. A boy and girl walked from the back of the cafe towards the door. His arm was slung over her shoulders. They were giggling and whispering to each other. Connor listened more closely. The girl's heart was pounding in her chest. The boy lacked any such rhythm.  
  
Sighing deeply, he pushed past Salome. He could feel the stake pressing against his chest. He narrowed his gaze on the retreating couple as he strode towards the door. "I know all about busy nights."  


* * *

  
  
Connor's body ached as he dragged himself through the hallways of his apartment building. His jacket was torn open at the shoulder, a bit of blood soaking through the brown fabric. His ears were ringing.  
  
The boy was-- no, had been-- an older vampire. He wasn't a master by any means. At best he had been a few decades old. It had been enough to make the fight interesting.   
  
As his body complained, he wondered why he was compelled to go kill vampires. Why he cared if the fight was interesting. He hadn't given it a lot of thought in the few months he had been doing it.  
  
But no, it hadn't _just_ been a few months he had been killing vampires. Connor had fought demons since he was a small child. It was what he was. He was the Destroyer.  
  
It was only the spell cast on him by his birth father that made him forget the world of the fantastic. He had been given a vacation from the blood and death and violence.  
  
He had tried not to. He wanted so desperately to forget what lurked in the dark. But every time he saw another vampire sneaking off with some helpless student, he had to follow. He had to hunt the beast, kill it, before it hurt anyone else.  
  
His stomach always did flip-flops when those he saved thanked him. Like the girl he had saved tonight. She had been so grateful, she kissed Connor on the cheek. Her red lipstick still marked his skin. That was probably the best part about fighting demons again. Those people would be safe.  
  
Every time he fought, words echoed in his head.  
  
 _Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It's harsh, and cruel. But that's why there's us. Champions. It doesn't matter where we come from, what we've done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world was what it should be, to show it what it can be.  
_  
Angel had said that, what felt like a million years ago. Connor had never understood it. He wasn't a Champion, Angel had said that himself. Was he trying to be one now? No, he didn't stalk demons, hunting them down. If he saw them, he would kill them. But he wanted it to go no further. It wasn't his life anymore.  
  
Angel gave up so much for Connor to be happy, to have a normal life. He obviously didn't want him to be a Champion. He would live and die Connor Riley, average guy with superpowers who occasionally killed vampires. Nothing more.  
  
Connor opened the door to his apartment, taking a deep breath. He was completely and utterly exhausted.  
  
"Man, you just keep getting in later and later."  
  
Connor looked up at his roommate. James Black the Third was sprawling in a chair, his legs draped over the top of the desk on the opposite side of the living room. His hair was mussed and his thick-rimmed glasses were sliding down the bridge of his nose. A textbook was balanced precariously on his thighs.  
  
After kicking his shoes off and placing his textbooks down on the kitchen table, Connor collapsed onto the couch. He turned onto his side, yawning. "Just can't seem to stay away from the library."  
  
Jamie pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cracked his knuckles. "And here I thought you had a new chick."  
  
Connor groaned. He hadn't had a girl-- unless you counted verbal sparring with a coffee shop employee-- since he and Tracy had broken up. That had been almost a year ago. "I should be so lucky. I've been by my lonesome as of late."  
  
Jamie grinned, jerking his chin towards Connor. "That lipstick mark on your face says different."  
  
Connor wiped his cheek with his hand, the crimson makeup coming off on his palm. He scowled at Jamie. "Oh, stop looking so smug. It's not what you think."  
  
"Don't presume to know what I think," Jamie shot back. He pushed his textbook onto the desk, swinging his feet down. "I think that if you were getting some play, you'd be crowing about it so much I'd have to ask you to move out."  
  
"You're not wrong." Connor mumbled, snuggling into the armrest of the couch. He closed his eyes. "Of course, I wouldn't have time to crow about it seeing as how I would die of shock."  
  
"Ah, you'll get a social life before me." Jamie shut his textbook, pushing Connor's legs off the couch to give himself a place to sit. "At least you're not trapped under a mountain of textbooks."  
  
"Price you pay for being a big old genius," Connor replied. "Us lesser mortals may not be able to assemble a Doomsday Device, but at least we have the possibility of getting laid."   
  
"The very slim possibly," Jamie retorted, smirking. "And you used to spend an awful lot of your time buried in the books."  
  
Connor sighed deeply. Frankly, he would have welcomed worrying about homework again. Lately, it seemed like college was becoming less a place for him to learn and more a place for him to fight vampires. They were coming more frequently. After he became aware of what he was, he killed one, maybe two vampires a week. Now it seemed like every night there was another demon lurking about.  
  
"Oh, before I forget your dad called." Jamie pulled a lime green Post-It out of his pocket, holding it out to Connor.  
  
Connor sat up, blinking blearily. He ran his fingers through his hair. He had just spoken to his dad two days ago. "Really. Is everything--?"  
  
He stared down at the note. There wasn't a message, just a very, very long phone number. He didn't even recognize the international calling code.  
  
"So, what's with the globetrotting number?" Jamie asked, sliding his glasses off and putting them in his pocket.  
  
Connor frowned, eyes riveted to the scrawled numbers. "He's--" Lawrence Riley was at home. He wouldn't even bother to leave a number, let alone one that probably cost five dollars a minute. Angel, on the other hand... Well, Connor hadn't heard from him in months. This was actually the first sign he had received that he was still alive-- if it wasn't a trap. "Business trip."  
  
"On the other side of the world?" Jamie asked, furrowing his brow.  
  
Connor paused, going through the excuses in his mind. He had grown more comfortable with the idea of Angel as his father. The old memories had integrated with his new ones, but he didn't know if he really wanted to tell Jamie, 'Yeah, I'm actually the son of two vampires and my father took down the evilest evil organization of all times in an attempt to halt their Apocalypse and if he's still alive, he's running for his undead life.'. Connor like living with Jamie and he really didn't want him to think he was nuts. Hell, Connor sometimes thought he was nuts and he lived through it all. "Convention... On the other side of the world."

"If you're going to call him back, we're so not splitting on the phone bill this month." Jamie put his feet up on the coffee table. "It's bad enough that I saved your ass from dormitory living this year."  
  
"Wouldn't think of it," Connor muttered. He put the Post-It down on the coffee table beside Jamie's feet. He rose to his feet. "I'm really tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed." He couldn't deal with Angel at the moment. He would call him after he got some sleep. Right now his mind could barely process the conversation with Jamie, let alone one with his biological father.   
  
"Be careful passing by Jules' room." Jamie warned as he turned on the TV.  
  
"She's asleep?" Connor frowned. "Usually she's still up studying."   
  
"Oh, she's still up." Jamie began to flip through the channels. "I just don't think I can stand hearing my sister get a flustery because you're in. You would think she'd get over it already."  
  
Connor shook his head and continued to his room. He tread carefully passed Jules's door. He opened the door to his room and sighed. Shutting the door behind him, he began to carefully peel off of his clothing until he was in his boxers.  
  
He winced, touching his shoulder. The wound had already closed, but hurt like hell.  
  
He fell back onto his bed, putting his hands behind his head. The vampires were coming more frequently. Angel, for the first time in months, was contacting him.   
  
Something was coming. He just wasn't sure he wanted to know what.  


* * *

  
A statuesque redhead strode into a darkened room. The only lighting were a few flickering candles surrounding a throne. A hooded figure sat before her. His eyes glowed yellow in the shadows.  
  
She fell to her knees before him, bowing her head. "Master."  
  
"Clarice." He reached out, caressing her hair. His voice was low and throaty. "Rise."  
  
Clarice stood back up. Her beautiful visage morphed to one of a vampire. She growled softly. "Stephanie and Christopher were slain tonight. By him. He is killing more of my brethren every day." She had a gentle British accent, a stark contrast to the ferocity of her demon face.  
  
Clarice's master remained calm, relaxing in his throne. "Does this bother you, Clarice?"  
  
"I don't care about those children. They were foolish, hunting in heavily populated areas." Another growl escaped her lips as she exposed her fangs. "But I don't understand why you won't let me kill him."  
  
"You have already earned your place. His death does not concern you."  
  
"But Master--"  
  
"His death does not concern you!" Her master hissed. "Whether or not the Destroyer dies is not up to you. I want him alive. I want him to be what he is meant to be, not the pathetic echo. He cannot deny what he is. Everyday he comes close to showing his true nature. His killings of your offspring prove that. I promise you will not go wanting."  
  
Clarice snarled, crossing her arms over her chest. She gave a curt nod, rolling her yellow eyes. "What is our next move, Master?"  
  
He rose, placing a hand against Clarice's cheek. His thumb caressed her wrinkled forehead. "The time has come to give our boy a very clear message. He won't be able to resist when something he cares about is in danger."  
  
He pushed down the left shoulder of Clarice's shirt. Pressing a hand to her flesh, he growled. "I want to hear you say it."  
  
"I am every faithful..." She laboured out the words as thorned circle began to burn red on her flesh. "I pledge myself to the Circle..."  
  
****  
  
"Okay, Mary Jane, and having to keep a secret identity, or Rogue and being able to tell her everything but having a super screwed up relationship?" Jamie walked down Sequoia Lane. On top of the many textbooks he carried was a copy of Ultimate Spider-Man.  
  
"Hm?" Connor hadn't been listening. He blinked, shaking his head to get the cobwebs out. "What were you saying?"  
  
Jamie sighed deeply, shaking his head. He pushed his glasses up as best he could without disturbing his books. "Dude, it's really hard to have a meaningful conversation with you when you're staring off into the ether."  
  
Connor rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing pink. He didn't know what they had been talking about. In fact, he wasn't even sure why he was walking with Jamie. He had already finished his last class of the day. "Sorry. I got distracted."  
  
Jamie nodded. "I noticed. It's really hard to play 'who would you rather?' by yourself. What were you thinking about so intensely you forgot I existed?"  
  
He had been thinking about the sun, how it beat down on him. He remembered when the sun had disappeared, when he had to fight vampires at high noon.  
  
He had been thinking about the air, how clean it was. In Quortoth, the air was always thick with the stench of blood. It had reeked of death and brimstone.  
  
Last night he had terrible dreams. Maybe it was because of the phone call from Angel he hadn't yet returned. He had been thinking of his old life. The dreams seeped deep into him, making his heart pound and his head ache. "It's complicated."  
  
"You know, Connor, if you don't mind me saying..." Jamie paused, taking in a hissing breath. He had stopped walking along the path. "You've been acting like a complete freak lately."  
  
Connor glared at Jamie, crossing his arms over his chest, trying to look as intimidating as his small, lithe body would allow. "I think I mind."  
  
Apparently Connor had underestimated his scowl. Jamie tensed, putting his books in front of him like a shield. "Seriously. I don't mean it as an insult. Just concern. We've known each other-- What? A year? We're friends. And you've been acting really strange."  
  
"What do you mean 'strange'?" Connor asked. He looked down at the ground, idly kicking a stray pebble. He had been trying very hard to keep his nocturnal activities from Jamie. He supposed it was inevitable he would notice something was up. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out.   
  
"You come back to at all hours, usually with blood on you. You're always yelling in your sleep, so loudly I hear you down the hall..." Jamie took a deep breath. "Just level with me, man... Are you in a gang?"  
  
Connor was about to spit back a fast retort, when what Jamie had said sunk in. He opened his mouth, closing it quickly. He licked his lips, running a hand through his hair.  
  
He then burst into laughter, nodding. "Oh yeah. I'm in a gang. We're calling ourselves 'skinny geeks who will never get laid or intimidate anyone'. Want to join?" He shook his head. "Dumbass." He gave Jamie a playful shove in the shoulder.  
  
Unfortunately, the shove was much harder than he had anticipated. Jamie's books flew into the air while he toppled over onto the pavement.  
  
"Dammit!" Connor knelt down, mentally kicking himself. He still hadn't completely adjusted to have these powers. "Sorry?"  
  
Jamie rubbed the back of his head. His glasses were hanging off one ear, crooked on his face. "Guess someone's been eating his spinach."  
  
Connor held out a hand to Jamie. "Sorry." He heaved Jamie to his feet then knelt to pick up the scattered books. "I really didn't mean it. I guess I don't know my own strength."  
  
"Yeah. Sure." Jamie adjusted his glasses and took the books Connor handed him, clutching them to his chest. He let out a laugh. "Probably a good thing anyway. We were getting kind of close to Movie of the Week territory."  
  
"Totally agree." Connor nodded firmly. The more questions Jamie asked, the closer he got to discovering what-- who-- he really was. Best they just left it to geeky conversations and lusting at the co-eds. "I'm fine. Really. You don't have to worry. No gangs for me."  
  
"Hey!" A thin blonde in glasses ran to catch up to Connor and Jamie. She was grinning broadly, books clutched to her chest.  
  
Jamie grinned, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulders. He squeezed her tightly. "Hey there, Jules. How's my favourite little sister doing?"  
  
Jules blushed deeply. "I'm kind of lost." She looked down. "You're the first people I've seen for an hour that I recognize. I'm looking for the Crown Library."  
  
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Jules, it's been a month. You're a _law student_. You should know this already."  
  
"Oops." She shrugged apologetically. "Connor, do you think you could maybe... Show me?"  
  
Connor blinked. "Me? You want me to show you?"  
  
"Well, Jamie has books. Looks like he's going to class." Jules smiled sweetly at him, curling a lock of hair around her finger. "Please, Connor?"  
  
Jamie opened his backpack, digging out a map. He put it on top of Jules's books. "Here you go. Your very own map. We were having an important conversation."  
  
Jules scowled. "You're a jerk, Jamie." She strode off.  
  
Shaking his head, Jamie gestured to his retreating sister. "And that is the child my dad prefers over me."  
  
"What?" Connor frowned. "I think Jules is sweet."  
  
"Of course _you_ do," Jamie slapped Connor on the shoulder. "She's desperately in love with you."  
  
Connor smiled, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. He shrugged. "What can I say? I can't help my animal magnetism... You should be nicer to her."  
  
"It just bugs the heck out of me that the little space cadet gets all the attention just because she's trundling along in his footsteps." Jamie sighed.  
  
"Come on." Connor jerked his head down the street. "You've got class. Show your dad being a genius is just as good as a lawyer."  
  
"You make it sound so easy," Jamie shook his head and began to walk along. "It not like your dad is a soulless bloodsucking fiend."  
  
Connor faltered, nearly tripping over his own feet. "What?"  
  
"Nothing." Jamie furrowed his brow. "Just a bad lawyer joke. You are the height of weird, Riley."  
  
"Right." Connor nodded. "So... Uhh... Who was it we'd rather?"  
  
Jamie grinned, starting to walk again. "Mary Jane and having to keep a secret identity, or Rogue and being able to tell her everything but having a really screwed up relationship?"  
  
Connor strode beside Jamie, thinking about the question. He supposed, given his own personal circumstances, the answer was obvious. Thought the idea of being any sort of comic book character had lost its appeal with the resurgence of his old memories.  
  
He opened his mouth to answer, but someone behind them spoke first. "Personally, I think the real question is who would rather be: Peter Parker or Remy LeBeau?"  
  
Connor and Jamie both stopped walking. They turned slowly towards the interloper.  
  
He was dressed completely in black, topped with a leather duster. His blond hair was slicked back. He wore mirrored sunglasses over his face. It was a parody of intimidating, like someone out of a Matrix convention.   
  
Connor raised an eyebrow, as he took in the scene. "And who are you?"  
  
The new arrival smiled mysteriously. "Wells." He pulled off his sunglasses. "Andrew Wells. And we need to talk."


	2. Chapter 2

Connor blinked, absolutely dumbfounded at this new arrival. What was one supposed to say in this sort of situation? He had never before been confronted by a freak in leather that wanted to talk to him. It was some sort of surreal public service announcement: Don't take candy from this stranger!  
  
He wasn't sure what his first instinct was. One part of him told him to turn and walk away. The other, the one that had been obsessing about Quortoth all night, told him to punch the guy in the face.   
  
He decided on the happy medium. He pointed to himself. "Are you talking to me?"  
  
"Yes, I am." Andrew stepped forward, raising his chin in pride. He puffed his chest out, obviously trying to come off as powerful. The effect was failing miserably. Even Jamie, who completely lacked superpowers as far as Connor knew, looked ready to burst into mad laughter. "It's about your father."  
  
This caught Connor's attention. There was no way he was taking about his adoptive father. This was about Angel. He took a step back, trying to remember how to breathe. "Jamie, don't you have class?"  
  
"Yeah. Starts in ten." He took a step towards Connor, whispering in his ear, "Listen, I don't like the look of this guy. Makes me nervous. I can skip if you want back up."  
  
Connor shook his head, keeping his eyes trained on Andrew. His predatory nature had gone into overdrive. This boy, who looked barely older than him, threatened his life. Angel calling him on the phone was one thing. Having some flunky show up was another. He wanted that life to stay away from this one. He didn't want his friends to know what he was. "Take off. I'll be fine."  
  
Jamie nodded, giving Connor a shot in the arm. "Watch out. I don't trust that freakazoid."  
  
"Neither do I," Connor growled. He kept glaring at Andrew, listening to Jamie's footsteps as he retreated. His fists tightened, his body tensing, ready to strike at the first hint of provocation. "So you know something about my father. I assume you're not talking about Larry Riley."  
  
Andrew's grin was smug as he tucked his sunglasses into the collar of his t-shirt. He ran a hand over his hair. "No, of course I am referring to the vampyr--"  
  
Connor pushed passed Andrew, stalking down the path back towards his dormitory. He didn't turn around at the feeble squeaks of protest. He forged onwards.   
  
He could hear the scrambled footsteps behind him. Connor took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from lashing out at Andrew. It became harder and harder to control his temper. He needed to remember he wasn't that guy anymore. He didn't lash out at the first unpleasant thing. That was the old him.   
  
Who was this guy? He didn't seem to be evil. Really, he was kind of like the guys Connor used to watch "X-Files" with when he was in high school. That didn't seem like the type of person his father would hang out with.  
  
Then, Lorne didn't seem like the type of person Angel would hang out with. Perhaps this Andrew guy was someone who knew him.  
  
Then why did he not remember him? True, his memories were still a tiny bit fuzzy, but Connor figured he would have remembered him. Maybe it was someone he had known at Wolfram and Hart, like that Spike guy.  
  
Whatever the answer was, Connor was feeling uneasy. It wasn't like Angel to send someone else to him. If he couldn't come himself, why didn't he send Gunn, Wes, Fred or Lorne?  
  
Connor went into his apartment. He stopped in the stairwell. His foot was poised on the first stair. They were finally away from any eavesdroppers. He turned slowly to Andrew, looking him over.  
  
Andrew's gaze darted around nervously. He fidgeted like a twitchy rodent, afraid of the slightly noise.  
  
Connor furrowed his brow, stepping back down to stand level with him. "Are you afraid of me?"  
  
Andrew exhaled, nodding. He took a step backwards. "I have heard many stories about you in preparation for my visit. I am a bit hesitant about saying something you won't like, Destroyer."  
  
Connor smirked, darting forward. He grabbed Andrew by the collar, crushing his sunglasses in the process. "Too late." He hauled Andrew three inches off the floor, slamming him against the wall. "Why are you here?"  
  
"Angel! I was sent by Angel!" Andrew sputtered, flailing his arms. He grabbed Connor's hand, trying to pry his iron grip off of him.  
  
"I don't believe you," Connor snarled. Connor Riley's sweet disposition had completely melted away. It had been 'Destroyer' that had done it. Andrew obviously didn't want the college student. He wanted him to be the Demon Hunter. Connor would make him sorry for calling him out.  
  
Angel wouldn't have sent this guy. Angel desperately wanted him to stay away from the demon world. He wouldn't send someone to him that would call him 'Destroyer'.   
  
"He was supposed to call you!" Andrew rasped, a whine to his voice. "Tell you what was going on! See? This is what happens when you don't have conference calls."  
  
Connor dropped Andrew to the ground. He rubbed his temples. "He left a message. I haven't called him back yet."  
  
"Oh, nice move." Andrew dusted off his coat, looking very put out. He got back to his feet. "Angel said you'd mellowed with those altered memories!"  
  
His new persona slowly crept back. He had the good nature to blush. He leaned against the wall, sighing deeply. "I'm sorry. Things have been a little tense around here. Come on."  
  
He jerked his head towards the stairs, grabbing onto the railing and stepping up. When he didn't hear Andrew's footsteps behind him, he turned. Andrew was still standing at the bottom on the stairs, hands in front of his chest as if to shield himself. "Listen, I'm really sorry. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. Just... Don't call me the Destroyer. Let's go to my apartment and you can tell me exactly what's going on."  
  
Andrew slowly put his hands down, taking a step towards the stairs. Connor nodded in encouragement. "Come on. It's all right. I didn't mean to freak you out. But that guy I was with? He knows nothing about this. I'd like to keep it that way."  
  
Andrew hesitated. "People usually take it pretty well."  
  
"I don't want to take any chances," Connor said. "He's letting me live with him and his sister rent-free." He beckoned to Andrew. "Seriously. Come on. I only kill demons."  
  
"I've known some demons that were all right," Andrew said, following Connor upstairs. "I mean most of them had the disposition of the Incredible Hulk with a wedgie. But there's always one or two okay ones."  
  
Lorne had been okay. Cordelia had been-- Well, Connor wasn't really sure what she had been now. He had to wonder if he ever knew the real Cordy. Other than them, all the demons he met were of the crush, kill, destroy variety. "I suppose. I don't think I'd ever hang out with one on a regular basis... Again."  
  
"It's all about control," Andrew explained. "You can concentrate, say the right words and the demon is under your thrall."  
  
Connor considered this for a moment. He had never thought of making demons work for him. It seems wrong. "Sounds like the Jedi Mind Trick."  
  
Andrew hopped up the stairs, walking side-by-side with Connor now. He had brightened considerably. "You are going to be the coolest assignment."  
  
"Assignment?" Connor frowned deeply, turning to Andrew. "What assignment?"  
  
"You have so much to learn, little one." Andrew sighed, his voice taking on a very mysterious quality. "So much to learn."  
  
"Dude." Connor skipped up a few stepped, whirling around to face Andrew. He held out a hand in front of himself, looking deadly serious. "Unless you're jonesing to get the crap beat out of you, I suggest you _don't_ call me 'little one'."  
  
The mysterious smile faded from Andrew's face. He cleared his throat nervously, nodding. "So noted." His voice cracked as he spoke.  
  
Connor turned around. He took the steps three at a time now. He had to admit, he was very curious as to what Andrew had to say. If he did have information about Angel, he wanted to know what it was. If he had the choice, he would have stood alongside Angel during the battle against Wolfram and Hart.  
  
They were quiet the rest of the way to Connor's apartment. Fishing his keys out of his pocket, Connor opened the door. "Come on in."  
  
"You should be careful about inviting strange people in your home," Andrew said, stepping inside. "You never know who is and isn't a vampire."  
  
"Ummm..." Connor wasn't sure if he should laugh or throw Andrew out. Andrew was complete and utterly mad. Connor fell down the couch. "You do realize we were just outside in the hot, late afternoon sun?"  
  
"Very observant. Your father said you were very smart." Andrew pursed his lips, eyeing Connor closely. He scratched his chin as he nodded.  
  
After about a minute of intense scrutiny, Connor sat up straight. He shook his head. "You're making me nervous. You want to tell me what the hell is going on? Who are you, why are you here and what happened to Angel?"  
  
Andrew straightened up. He put a hand to his heart, bowing solemnly. "My own personal story of redemption is a long and complicated one. It started when I joined forces with Warren Meers and Jonathan Levinson forming the Evil Trio. Together we planned to take over Sun--"  
  
Connor rested his chin against his hands, sighing deeply. "Forget that first one."  
  
Andrew looked thoroughly put out at having his origins story disrupted. He tried to regain his minuscule sense of mystique. "So you would like me to tell you the tale of how Angel and his compatriots escaped the fiery grips of the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart?" He arched a brow, nodding his head firmly.  
  
Connor nodded. "Yeah. I really would."  
  
Andrew swept his hands out, as if he were setting a stage. "Back three months ago, the vampyr with a soul Angel and his compatriots: the other vampyr with a soul, Spike, former demon goddess Illyria, renegade Watcher Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, the velvet-voiced demon Lorne and street thug with a heart of gold Charles Gunn decided to take on the Circle of the Black Thorn. With the First Evil brought to its incorporeal knees by yours truly, the Circle of the Black Thorn was the most evil organization in this realm of existence. Angel and his friends were victorious against the inner circle, as you well know."  
  
Connor nodded along. There was something oddly compelling about the theatrics of Andrew's storytelling. "I was there. I fought that big guy in the suit."  
  
Andrew put a finger to his lips. "Shhh! I'm not finished!" His voice was a low hiss. He straightened his shirt, trying to regain his bearings. "The battle came at a very high price. Wyndam-Pryce was murdered by the demon sorcerer extraordinaire Cyvus Vail--"  
  
"--Vail was the one who gave me my memories." Connor interrupted, jumping to his feet.  
  
Andrew glared. "I was just getting to the good part."  
  
Connor sat back down. He had to admit, he really wanted to hear the next part as it was the part he didn't know. "Sorry. Go on."  
  
"Lorne, choosing to become a pacifist, much in the style of those ever-logical beings the Vulcans, left the group before the final battle could commence." Andrew rubbed his hands together, his eyes glimmering maniacally. "The massacre had angered the malevolent Senior Partners. Now down to four intrepid Champions, one of who was bleeding profusely, they faced against a hellish army: thousands of troops, demons of all sorts. Things looked grim."  
  
Connor tightened his fists. He knew he shouldn't have left Angel. He could have helped them fight.  
  
"Unbeknownst to his fellow warriors, Angel has contacted his former lover, Buffy the Slayer of the Vampyrs..."  
  
Putting his head in his hands, Connor, leaned in, fascinated, "I know my memories are a bit hazy, but isn't it Vampire Slayer?"  
  
"Realizing her two loves had not fallen to the Dark Side, Buffy abandoned her swarthy new boyfriend to fight by their side." Andrew continued, paying Connor's question no mind. "She brought with her an army of Slayers, witches and powerful yet humble Watchers. The forces of darkness were temporarily blindsided, long enough for our heroes to escape. They fled across the globe, to rejoin the stronghold created by Buffy and her friends. Together, they would now face all hardships before them."  
  
Having finished his long explanation, Andrew collapsed in the desk chair. He sighed deeply, mopping his brow. He fanned himself. "Man, I'm hot in this coat. I don't know how Spike does it."  
  
Connor nodded silently. He stood, pacing the room several times. He just kept nodding. On his fourth round, Connor stopped. "So you're saying... My father was saved by a bunch of girls and ran for his life."  
  
Andrew shifted in his seat, pulling at his duster. "I don't think I am comfortable with that synopsis of the events."  
  
Sitting back down, Connor couldn't stop frowning. "So where is Angel now?"  
  
"Ah," Andrew steepled his fingers. "The Senior Partners are still looking for your father and his friends. They have been on the move. While they travel, they look for new Slayers for the Watcher's Council. Last I heard, Angel and his lycanthropic lover were in Cairo."  
  
Connor plucked the Post-It off of the coffee table. He stared down at the number. He chewed on his lower lip, reading the numbers several times. He could feel Andrew peering over at the tiny note.   
  
There was only one thing Connor could think of saying. He blurted it out before he had time to rethink it. "I want to talk to Angel."  
  
"He'll be anxious to hear from you."  
  
Connor picked up the phone. If Angel was really in Cario, his parents were going to kill him when he asked them to pay his part of the phone bill. Maybe he could lie and tell them he called a 900 number. It would certainly be easier to explain than this.   
  
"Ask for Geraldo Angel," Andrew said as Connor began to dial.  
  
"I can do this mys--" Connor scrunched up his nose, processing what Andrew had just said. "Geraldo?"  
  
Andrew shrugged. "He's incognito."  
  
"Okay. I'll do that. Now can you please... This is kind of a private conversation." He turned his back to Andrew, stretching the phone cord as far as it would go. He wanted as much distance as he could get between him and Andrew.  
  
Andrew looked around the room. He snatched up Jamie's copy of _The Dark Knight Returns_ , flipping through it. He sat down on the couch. "Ooh... I haven't read this since my copy was cut in half by the buzz saw."   
  
Connor finished dialling and held the receiver to his ear. He gripped it so tightly he thought it might break under the pressure. It rang five times before he heard the phone pick up. A groggy female voice answered. "Hello?"  
  
He paused, unsure what to say. He hadn't expected someone other than Angel to answer. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to stop the blood from rushing in his ears. "Hi. Can I speak to Geraldo Angel?"  
  
"Hm. Hold on."  
  
There was the sound of movement and muttered cursing. Connor felt his stomach twist into knots.  
  
"I just got to sleep, Andrew!" Angel's voice was savage, despite the sleep still evident in it. "It's four in the morning here."  
  
"....Dad?" Connor didn't know when he had lost his voice, but it came out raspy.  
  
"Connor." The tone of Angel's voice immediately shifted. The anger and drowsiness immediately melted away. "You got my message. I'm sorry about that, I thought you were..."  
  
"Yeah, I know." Connor cracked a small smile, turning to look at Andrew, who was happily engrossed in his comic. "I can understand why you would get ticked off with him."  
  
Angel let out a quiet laugh. "So Andrew's there, huh? You didn't try to kill him, did you? People have a habit of doing that."  
  
Connor paced the hall. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. He was just a bundle of nerves. "Why is he here?"  
  
"Didn't Andrew explain everything to you?"  
  
"He told me how you guys got away from the Senior Partners. Did it really happen the way he said it?"  
  
"Probably... less grandiose." Angel said carefully. "Yes, Buffy and Faith and their Slayers saved us. We wouldn't have made it through if they hadn't shown up."  
  
Connor ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Why couldn't you tell me all of this? You sent someone here. To my school. My roommate saw him. And, well, Andrew isn't exactly inconspicuous. I don't want the entire campus knowing I fight demons."  
  
"You have been fighting demons." Angel's voice filled with panic. "I knew it. I _knew_ you would be fighting again. Andrew didn't tell you everything, did he?"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Angel," Connor shook his head. He felt like he might be sick, he was so nervous. He definitely didn't like where this was going. "Just tell me."  
  
"The Circle of the Black Thorn is looking for you," Angel explained.   
  
"I thought you'd killed them." Connor was drawing deep breaths. It had been a coincidence that he had been fighting more lately. No one was looking for him.  
  
"We did take them out, but they'll be replaced. The Senior Partners will need an Earthly contingent. The lower beings are all vying for those spots. Willow did a locator spell. A lot of demons are converging in your area. The Senior Partners know you're my son. They know you helped me kill Hamilton. Most likely, they've decided the first open spot goes to whoever can kill you."  
  
Connor felt like his heart was going to burst from his chest. He leaned against the wall. "What am I supposed to do?"  
  
"I'm leaving the choice up to you," Angel's voice lost the panicked edge, becoming calm, gentle. "I don't want to force you into anything. But I see only three choices."  
  
"What are they?" Connor cradled his head in his free hand. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. Really, he just wanted to wake up and discover this day had been a dream.  
  
"You could come back with Andrew to England. The Watcher's Council will give you protection."  
  
Scratch one. Connor couldn't abandon his family, his friends. This was his life. He couldn't just run off to England with some freak in a leather jacket.  
  
When he didn't reply, Angel continued on. "I could come to Stanford."  
  
"They'd kill you," Connor whispered.  
  
"There's one last option." Angel paused. "Andrew is a Watcher. You know what a Watcher is, right? They teach and guide Slayers. I know you're not a Slayer, but you're special. There's no Slayer in California at the moment, not one that's trained. You could take that position. The council has given us approval. Andrew will stay on as your Watcher, report back to us and give you any assistance you need."  
  
Connor moved the receiver away from his ear. He could hear Angel calling his name as he lowered it to his side.  
  
Everything seemed to move in slow motion. His body didn't want to use his superhuman speed. He let the phone slip out of his fingers. The tension in the phone cord snapped it back. The receiver hit the desk, knocking over a pile of books there. He strode across the living room.   
  
Andrew jumped up, dropping the comic. He smiled brightly. "Hey there! How'd everything go?"  
  
"I have to go get some coffee," Connor muttered, opening the front door. He nodded. "Yeah. I definitely need some coffee."  
  
Andrew followed close on his heels as he walked down the hall. "What did Angel say? Did he mention me?"  
  
Connor nodded vaguely. "Yeah. He said people like to try and kill you." A fog had settled on his mind. He couldn't think.  
  
Angel wanted him to fight demons. Sure, he killed a few here and there, but it wasn't like a job or anything. If he were to go along with this plan, he would be reporting to a council and everything. That didn't sound good at all.  
  
His life as he knew it was over. All because he had gone to Angel to fight that big guy.  
  
No, Cyvus Vail had ended it, when he ran him down with that car and he had gotten up with barely a scratch.  
  
No, it was over because this was never his life. His life was with the demons and darkness, no co-eds and lectures.  
  
But then, everyone told him he was a fighter. He wasn't going to give up this life without a hell of a battle. "You can go back to England, Andrew. I don't need a Watcher."  
  
"But Angel entrusted me with this mission!" Andrew kept knocking into the back of Connor's shoes. "Rupert said it was a great opportunity, seeing as how you're the first human male with abilities rivalling a Slayer."  
  
Connor began to run. He wanted to get as far away from Andrew as possible. He wanted to go back to being Connor Riley. He wanted to go to class and learn all of the intricate details of database configuration and software engineering, to discuss with Jamie who would win in a fight: Juggernaut or the Blob, to shamelessly look down Salome's blouse as she fished his balled up notebook paper from under the table at the CoHo.  
  
Connor had just opened the door to the CoHo when Andrew caught up with him. He was winded, wheezing for breath. "You are a Slayer, one of the girls in all the world with the strength and skill to kill the vampires."  
  
Gripping the door handle so tightly it bent, Connor scowled at Andrew. "Do I look like a girl?"  
  
Andrew grabbed the stitch in his side. "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"  
  
Connor rolled his eyes and continued inside. "Go away."  
  
Andrew chased after him, grabbing his shoulder. Connor was very tempted to flip him, but in front of this large a crowd it would be a fatal mistake for his social career. Instead, he just turned to face Andrew, giving him as menacing a look as he could muster.   
  
Andrew looked apologetic. "I memorized the speech for normal Slayers. You're a Boyslayer. The Boyslayer."  
  
"Boyslayer?" Connor shook his head. "Dude, you have got to be kidding. Listen, I'm not interested. I'm doing fine on my own. I haven't died yet."  
  
"There are dark forces gathering, pal." Andrew stabbed a finger into Connor's chest. "And they're coming after you, Destroyer."  
  
Connor looked down at the offending digit. "I think you better reconsider doing that."  
  
Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. "And I think you're going to ignore this particular problem until it swims up and bites you in the ass!"  
  
Connor was starting to understand why people wanted to kill Andrew. "You're completely insane."  
  
"You have a destiny. Blessed with skills even Slayers don't have. You know you can't avoid fighting forever." Andrew sighed, shaking his head. "You don't have to decide this minute. I'm staying at the Mermaid Inn. Give me a call if you change you mind."  
  
Andrew turned on his heels, striding out, his jacket flowing behind him.   
  
Connor let out a frustrated, strangled groan, raking his fingers roughly through his hair. He shook off the anger and pasted on a smile. Andrew was gone, and he wouldn't bother calling him later. He would just go back to his normal life.  
  
Bounding up to the cash register, he grinned at Salome. "Hey Sal."  
  
Salome was frowning at him. "You okay, Chess Club? You and that guy seemed pretty close to throwing down."  
  
"Naw." He shook his head furiously, praying no one had overheard the actual words they were saying. He just needed to shrug it off, pretend it hadn't happened. Go back to his normal life. Starting with the obvious. "You want to go out with me?"  
  
"Sure." Salome shrugged and walked around the counter. She looked at her watch. "I'm just getting off in... Three, two... Now."  
  
Connor was too dumbfounded to do anything but follow Salome. He rubbed his temples. Now he was sure this was a dream. Angel's phone message had messed with his head and he was having an extremely bizarre dream.  
  
But, no, that didn't make any sense. His dreams about demons were never this complex. They were flashing images of blood, fleeting feelings of terror and anger.  
  
"You've just thrown me completely off." Connor finally managed to say as Salome stopped in an alley. "I ask you out, you say no... It's our thing. I like our thing. It's fun. It's harmless. Why are you saying yes?"  
  
The sun was starting to set. The sky was bathed in a warm, orange glow. Salome looked up. "You know, all this time, I _never_ would have pegged you."  
  
"Pegged me for what?" Connor felt his stomach lurch. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Morpheus should be a bit more careful who he talks about 'destiny' in front of." She was smirking, leaning casually against the wall.  
  
Connor reached out, grabbing Salome's wrist. He tightened his grip around it. He tried to control his anger, but blind panic was superseding it. "How much did you hear?"  
  
"Enough." She struggled to get away, "Connor, let go. No one else heard. I've got really good hearing."  
  
He wouldn't-- couldn't-- let her go. What if she told someone else what he was? Then, he realized something. "How did you understand what we were talking about?"  
  
As Salome struggled to get away, Connor's fingers slipped beneath the purple bracelet on her wrist. The thin cord holding it together snapped, the beads scattering across the pavement.  
  
Salome's pale skin darkened, turning purple. Her pupils dilated until they nearly dominated her whole eye. "You dick! Do you know how hard is it to buy glamours on a cashier's salary?"


	3. Chapter 3

Connor didn't take the time to think about who it was in front of him. He didn't think about the numbers of times he had flirted with her or how many free cups coffee she had slipped him. He did what came naturally to him when he was confronted with a demon.  
  
He wound back his fist and rammed it into her nose.  
  
Salome staggered backwards, blood sliding out of her nostrils. "Ow! That hurt!"  
  
"Of course it hurt," Connor spat, crouching down. His body was tense, ready to pounce on the newly revealed demon. "We're fighting."  
  
"I don't want to fight." Salome sniffled, blinking dazedly. She put a hand to her head. "Rumours are true. Your fist is like a sledgehammer. I think you broke my nose!"  
  
Connor backed off, regaining some semblance of himself. He couldn't just lash out. Everyone used to say that's what got him into trouble. Seeing as how he had gone crazy and needed his mind wiped, they may have had a point. "What are you?" He asked carefully."  
  
"I'm a college student, dumbass," Salome's words were slightly garbled as she tried to recover from the hit.   
  
Tightening his fists, Connor's lip curled in a snarl. "College students don't look like that."  
  
"They should be so lucky." The blood staining her upper lip weakened her haughty response. She knelt down on the ground, picking up the beads that were scattered. "Can we please talk like human beings?"  
  
"You're not a human being!" Connor exclaimed. Despite his anger, he knelt down and began to collect up the beads.  
  
"Semantics." Salome took the beads in her hand. She looked down at them, wrinkling her bloody nose as she jostled them. "Damn. I hope I can fix this before class tomorrow." She looked up at Connor. "Listen, Chess Club--"  
  
" _Connor_." He had never liked her nickname for him, and he liked it even less now that he knew she was a demon. Why hadn't he smelled it before? Right, he had been too busy looking down her shirt.  
  
"All right-- Connor. I'm not a bad person. I'm the same Salome you've known for a year. Okay, yes, I'm a demon. But only in the most technical sense. I have a soul-- a lot of demon species do, you just don't hear about them because they don't try to bring the Apocalypse. I'm completely intergraded into human society."  
  
Connor held out the remainder of the beads to Salome. She accepted them with a smile, sliding them into her pocket. She held out a clawed hand to Connor. "Truce?"  
  
Warily, Connor took her hand and shook it. He could feel her claws sliding across his flesh. He shivered, pulling his hand away.  
  
"Well, now that that's settled..." Salome balled her fist, slamming it into Connor's jaw.  
  
He stumbled back, hand covering his smarting chin. He fought against his instincts to leap onto her. "What was that for?"  
  
"Payback's a bitch, huh?" She sniffled, cracking her knuckles. "I don't appreciate racial profiling. Now we're even."  
  
Connor nodded as he rubbed the sore flesh. He sighed deeply. "All right. Well. I guess I'll see you at the CoHo. Bye."  
  
He turned on his heels, walking out of the alley. This day just couldn't get any more confusing.   
  
"Hey!" Salome ran after him. "Where are you going? Don't you even want to talk to me? You've asked me out almost every day for a year!"  
  
Connor turned back, shrugging. "That's when I thought you were a nice girl with punkish hair. I mean, no offence. I'm sure as far as demons go, you're one of the better ones. I just know what happens when life is filled with nothing but demons and death. I can't do that again."  
  
Salome's unearthly eyes softened. Her lips curved down in a frown. "Are you really the Destroyer, Connor?"  
  
"So they tell me." He crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
Biting her lower lip, Salome took a step closer. She shook her head sadly. "Connor, if you really are the Destroyer-- the guy all of the demons are talking about-- then you don't have a choice."  
  
"They're talking about me?" That certainly fit with what Andrew and Angel had told him. He shook it off, shrugging. "It doesn't matter. If they come, they come. I'm not going to go seek them out. I just want my life. I want to go to school, have some sort of social life. I can't do it again."  
  
"Listen, it's not all that bad." Salome smiled at him, her fangs readily apparent. "I've been fighting demons and going to school for over two years. It can be done."  
  
Connor jerked back, his eyes growing wide. "Demon fighting... It was you who was hunting that vampire last night."  
  
Salome nodded, scuffing her toe and looking down in faux-modestly. "You know, what can I say? I do what I can. I saw her leaving with some guy, so I took a break. Would have gotten her too if I didn't have to work a double shift. I don't want those bloodsuckers snacking on the student body." She touched the pocket with her beads in it. "You know, I'd love to chat all night, but I get the impression you're really not into it. I've should go fix the glamour you so rudely destroyed before class tomorrow. I can't Clark Kent my way through the day as easily as you."  
  
She peeked out of the alley, looking out onto the students crossing the campus. "Dammit. I knew I should have worked on my teleportation magicks." She ducked back in, leaning against the wall. "Purple skin really isn't going to go over well. Just peachy."  
  
Sighing resignedly, Connor picked Salome up, heaving her over her shoulder. She wasn't very heavy. With his super strength there was no strain.  
  
"What are you doing?" Salome asked, her voice slightly shrill with panic as Connor began to scale the wall.  
  
"Like you said, I was the one who rudely destroyed your magic trick. I may as well help you fix it."  


* * *

  
Connor clicked the lock of his room. He shook his head, crossing the room and sitting down on his bed. He folded his hands, leaning against them. "Jamie has a late class tonight and Jules gets lost a lot. We should be all right for a few hours."  
  
Salome cross-legged on the floor, stringing the purple beads back together. Her tongue was clenched between her teeth as she concentrated. "Mmhmm." She rooted around in her pocket, pulling out a few more stray beads. "Thanks. My roommate was holed up in our room last time I checked. I don't think I'd be able to explain this to her." She looked around. "This is a sweet pad, Ace."  
  
Nodding, Connor kept his eyes riveted on Salome's work. "So you're a demon who does magic." He sighed. "Great. Just great."  
  
"I'm not an expert or anything." Salome turned to Connor as she slid the bracelet back onto her wrist. "Just some spells to get by. So magic thrills you as much as demons. I guess I really know how to pick 'em. You said you've done this all before. What happened that was so terrible?"  
  
Connor shrugged, looking down. He didn't feel like laying out his whole story, especially to someone who was a virtual stranger. Everything he thought he knew about Salome was shattered.  
  
Salome rose to her feet. She sat down beside Connor, nudging him in the shoulder. "Hey. Really. It's not that bad. As someone who is resigned to living in the magical world twenty-four-seven. And the parts that are, well... If you ignore it, it doesn't just go away. It gets worse. Yeah, it's fill with demons and death. But if you don't try and fight against it, then the deaths are going to be innocent people instead of demons."  
  
"Why do you do it?" Connor asked, turning to face Salome. "Why do you fight?"  
  
"I'm about the vengeance. Can't find the demon I have to kill, so I occupy my time taking other baddies out. At least when I'm not going to classes or working." Salome looked down. "You know, destiny can be a real bitch. Even if you wanted to ignore it, Connor, people are after you and they won't stop until you're in the ground."  
  
"How much do you know?"   
  
"You're the Destroyer." Salome licked her lips. "Your father is Angel, the vampire with a soul. I had absolutely no idea who you were until today, with that guy. I know that there's a price on your head." She got up again. "And I do mean that quite literally. If a demon brings in your head they get... Well, that part I don't know. I get bits and pieces of information, but most of the fang and fur types don't like me."  
  
"Being in the Senior Partners' inner circle," Connor supplied. He crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
"The Senior Partners? You're talking Wolfram and Hart?" Salome gaped at him. She shook her head, laughing. "If that is the prize, fight with all guns blazing. I'm surprised you haven't been swarmed by demons, Ace. Most of them would give their right horns to have an in with the Senior Partners."  
  
Salome touched her braceleted wrist. She muttered words in a demonic language, and her skin returned to its pale colour. She gave Connor a smile. "You more comfortable talking to me now?"  
  
"Why do you leave your hair purple?" Connor asked.  
  
Salome curled a lock around her fingers. "What? You don't think it's cool?" She shrugged. "Truth is, I like being me, being purple. I wish I could all the time. But I choose to live in the human world, so I have to adapt. I can pretend to be Sally Simpson, normal college student, but at the end of the day... I'm me. It's not something I can pretend isn't there. Believe me, there are times I wish I was human, but... I'm not. I can't deny that. This is an aspect of my true self I can get away with."  
  
Connor got to his feet. He looked down at the floor as he walked to Salome. "It's getting late." He couldn't deal with any more talk of demons. He just wanted to get away from it.  
  
Salome nodded. "You're not going to ask me out tomorrow... Are you?" Her voice was laced with sadness.  
  
Connor shook his head. He wasn't going to lie to her. "It's just..."  
  
"Don't. I understand." Salome walked to the door. She sighed. "It's too bad. I had a lot of fun flirting with you."  
  
Salome opened the door, slinking out. She shut it behind her, leaving Connor alone. Connor sat back down on the bed. He folded his hands, leaning against them. In the end, he was always alone. The Destroyer wasn't allowed to have anyone. And that's all anyone wanted him to be.  


* * *

  
  
Jamie leaned against his arm, staring down at his notebook. He sat in the back of the lecture hall. Professor Morrison stood at the front of the class, droning on and on. He had stopped listening. He was tired and his stomach was growling. He just wanted to eat some dinner and fall asleep. Of course, he still had a mountain of homework to finish. He glanced down at his watch. Still ten minutes to go.  
  
He jerked out of his half-asleep state when the door of the class burst open. A very beautiful redhead strode into the room. She was dressed in black, the clothing cling to her curves.  
  
What must have been a dozen people followed behind her. Most were tall, hulking men. There were a few women. All of them looked ready to start trouble, like a gang.  
  
"May I help you?" Professor Morrison asked, furrowing his brow.  
  
"I'm sorry." The woman stopped in front of the Professor. She licked her lips slowly.   
  
With super human speed, she grabbed Professor Morrison's head. She twisted it around. The sickening crack of his neck echoed through the room. "Didn't mean to interrupt."  
  
One of the girls in the front row screamed as Professor Morrison's corpse fell to the floor.  
  
Jamie jumped to his feet, eyes wide. He panted for breath, looking in horror down at the redheaded ringleader.  
  
She strode up to a small blonde in her gang. She pulled a glowing yellow necklace out of her pocket. She hung it around the blonde's neck. "You know what to do."   
  
The blonde ran out. The redhead strode back to the middle of the room. She placed her foot on Professor Morrison's chest. "Don't let any of them get out." She ordered.  
  
The gang ran up the aisles, blocking any way for Jamie to get to the front of the class, to make an escape. He jumped the chair in front of him, attempting to bypass the stairs.  
  
The redhead spotted him. She leapt into the air. The movement was one no normal human could make. She landed in front of him. She smiled. "Trying to go somewhere?"  
  
"I--"  
  
She growled. "Don't worry, kid." She slammed her fist upside his head, knocking him to the ground. "You get a get out of jail free card this time. You're not part of the message." She turned back to her gang, her face shifting. "I just hope the Destroyer gets it."  


* * *

  
  
Connor strode through the Oval. He kept his head down. He didn't want to speak to anyone. He was positive if he ran into someone, even Jamie, they would turn out to be a demon or some superhuman intent on dragging him back into that life.  
  
He would have stayed in his apartment, shut out the world completely, but he was starving. Every time he got close to getting something to eat, someone else jumped out at him with information on the demon world. All that was in his apartment was a bag of Doritos that were stale three weeks ago. He, Jamie and Jules hadn't been too concerned with shopping.  
  
"Hey there, hero." The voice was only a whisper in his sensitive ears.  
  
Connor looked up. He felt his chest tighten. He tried to draw breath, but it wouldn't come. He shook his head. It wasn't possible. She _couldn't_ be here.  
  
Cordelia smirked at him. Her sparkling hazel eyes were focused on him, penetrating his soul.  
  
Why was she here? No, she couldn't be here. She had been comatose. He had nearly killed her...   
  
The only thing from his other life he could never resist and she was standing right in front of him. It was no fair. It was no fair! He didn't want this...  
  
Cordelia turned, running off. Connor went off in pursuit, pushing past the students milling around. He could smell her scent clearly on the air. He needed to catch her.  
  
He knew it hadn't really been her. The thing that seduced him-- lied to him-- wasn't Cordelia. But still... He looked at her and remembered how she made him feel.   
  
He knocked hard into someone. He turned briefly, another familiar scent mixing with Cordelia's.  
  
"Connor?" Salome was on the ground, looking up at him. "What's going on?"  
  
Shaking his head, he broke into a run once more. He needed to know why Cordelia was here. Maybe Angel had sent her as well as Andrew. Maybe she could make sense of all of this. Maybe if she were to tell him why he should fight, he would finally want to. She was always so good at that.  
  
He could smell Salome running behind him. Why did she insist on following? She would just get in the way.  
  
"Connor!" Salome yelled. "There's something going on!"  
  
He stopped running, smiling. There she was, waving at him front behind the glass doors of one of the nearby buildings.  
  
Salome panted as she caught up to Connor. "Connor. We have to talk."  
  
Connor shook his head, striding inside. "She's here. I saw her."  
  
"It's important!" Salome grabbed his arm, but he pulled away roughly, throwing the doors open. She followed in behind him. "Someone's doing something. I felt it. The only way I could feel it is if--"  
  
Salome cut herself off as she ran into Connor. He stood in the doorway of the lecture hall, feeling the sickness well inside of him.  
  
Cordelia stood beside a redheaded woman. The Amazonian woman would have been beautiful, if not for her demonic visage. She dropped a drained student, licking the blood from her lips.  
  
"--they used really powerful dark magic," Salome finished, looking over the bodies scattered across the floor.   
  
Connor glared at Cordelia, steeling his jaw. She always led him to death. Yet he still followed her! Why couldn't he stop? Hadn't he become smarter than that?  
  
"Of course it was powerful magic." The redhead hissed.  
  
Cordelia gripped the glowing necklace she wore. It snapped away and Cordelia's form melted away, leaving a small, blonde vampire.   
  
The redhead smirked. "Only very powerful magic would fool this boy's senses."  
  
She strode to Connor, her fangs stained with blood. He was still too stunned to move, to act.  
  
"My name's Clarice," the vampire hissed. "I have a message for you."  
  
Leaping into the air, she swung her leg. The steel enforced tip of her boot connected with Connor's jaw. The force of the blow sent him flying backwards. He slammed hard against the wall. His body wracked with pain as he slid down onto the floor. She laughed. "And I'm going to have lots of fun delivering it."


	4. Chapter 4

Connor struggled to his feet. He panted, glaring up at Clarice. He crackled his knuckles. "Salome? You said you fight demons?"  
  
Salome nodded, glancing around the room at the large gang abandoning the surviving students, closing in on them. "Never this many."  
  
Connor smashed his fist down into one of the wooden chairs. It splintered into pieces. He snatched one up, throwing it to Salome. She caught it in the chest, coughing with the impact that it hit her. Connor shrugged apologetically. "First time for everything."  
  
He gripped a piece of the chair in his hand, the jagged edges digging into his flesh. He narrowed in on Clarice. She was the one who led them. She was the one he needed to kill.  
  
Crouching down, he used his legs to propel himself into the air, leaping onto Clarice. Clarice laughed, throwing him off. She was strong, stronger than he had seen in a long time. "I'm just here to watch," Clarice hissed.  
  
Connor forced himself into a roll. He flipped back to his feet, kicking one of Clarice's lackeys in the throat.  
  
Dust billowed through the air as Salome plunged her stake into a vampire's heart. She yelped as the blonde who had imitated Cordelia leapt on her back, hands wrapping around Salome's throat.  
  
In the din of the battle, the few remaining students scampered out the door. Clarice stood in the doorway, smiling as she let them escape. She kept her eyes locked on Connor.  
  
Two large, leather-clad males descended onto Connor. He leapt into the air, kicking them both in the chest. They flew backwards. One of them flew into the chair Connor had broke. Debris impaled itself through his chest and he exploded into dust.  
  
Connor used the opportunity to stalk up to the other male, plunging the stake into his chest. He whirled around to Salome, who still struggled with the fake Cordelia.  
  
Salome twisted her wrist back, pressing it to the fake Cordelia's cheek. The female screamed, letting go. She stumbled backwards, the cross-shaped burn clear on her pale flesh.  
  
"You had no right," Connor hissed, throwing himself at the blonde. He pinned her down, snarling. He beat his fist into her face as hard as he could. He didn't want her dead. He wanted to tear her apart piece by piece. How dare she pretend to be Cordelia? No one had any right to look like her...  
  
The blonde struggled and cried, unable to get out from under his preternatural grip. None of the gang helped her. Connor was free to pound her into oblivion.  
  
"You evil... Demon... You had no right! To pretend to be her! To play with me!" He shook her before slamming his balled fist across her face. Her cheek opened in a gaping wound, cut by the jagged wood in his hand. "You think you can control me? You think you can make me do what you want? All those terrible things!"  
  
"Connor!" Salome yelled as four vampires surrounded her, closing in. "I need help!"  
  
His head snapped up, looking at Salome. He then looked down at the blonde. Her face was almost completely demolished. His gaze drifted to his bloody hands, eyes going wide. He plunged his stake through the blonde's heart. She turned to dust beneath him.  
  
Connor shook his head, staring down at his hands. He had felt it. The Destroyer. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't do it.  
  
" _Connor_!" Salome had morphed into her demon form, dusting one of the vampires and staggering away. "I can't do this alone!"  
  
Connor's mind went blank as he stared down at his bloody hands, the stake still clutched in his fist.  
  
The world was dream-like, fluid. He didn't even know he had started to fight them. It was a blur of kicks and punches. Dust filled the air as he took them out one by one.  
  
When the dust cleared, Connor dropped his stake. It clattered on the floor. "I'm done," he rasped.  
  
He flew backwards with the force of the punch to his jaw. Clarice smirked as she flexed her fingers, crackling the knuckles. "Not nearly."  
  
Connor collapsed on the ground, his head spinning. He tried to get back up, but his body complained.  
  
"This is truly pathetic." Clarice kicked Connor in the stomach. "I came to fight the Destroyer. Not some sad little college student."  
  
Her head snapped back to look at Salome, who was creeping forward with her stake. "You know I'd kill you before you had the chance, demon. Keep out of it and you keep breathing."  
  
Clarice bent down, gripping Connor by the throat. She lifted him up, holding him a foot off the ground. "You know you want it, Destroyer. You want to unleash it. Let him out."  
  
She swung her free arm back, hitting Salome upside the head as she rushed forward. Salome crumpled to the ground. "I said stay back!"  
  
Clarice slammed her fist into Connor's nose. He could hear bones break, blood filling his mouth. "Your demon sidekick isn't too much help." Clarice threw Connor down, bringing her knee up at the same moment. The hard bone connected with his back. He howled in pain. "I wonder what Cordelia would say about your little friend?"  
  
Connor coughed, his mind overloaded with the agony. "But then, Cordelia's not thinking much these days. Didn't your _Daddy_ tell you? Your precious Cordy is dead." She kicked Connor in the face. "And she's dead because of you. Because of what you put in her. Is that why you're letting me beat you to death, Destroyer? Feeling guilty?" She laughed heartily. "Well, aren't you a sweet boy?"  
  
Clarice's foot came down again. But it didn't impact. Connor's hand snapped up, grabbing it. He pushed as hard as he could, throwing her backwards. She rolled and then crouched on the ground. She smirked. "Was it something I said?"  
  
Connor rose to his feet. His face was caked in his own blood. "I hate being called that," he growled.  
  
"What?" Clarice got up, cracking her neck. "Destroyer?"  
  
Leaping up, Connor flipped, kicking both his feet against Clarice's chest. She soared across the lecture hall, falling in a heap. Connor landed on his feet. "No. Sweet boy."  
  
All of the lies, all of the pain. They were all summed up in those two words. He jumped at Clarice, delivering a spinning kick to her jaw. "You must really want to die tonight."  
  
Clarice licked her own blood off her lip. "No. Just want to make sure you're in the game, Destroyer." She muttered some other language. She was surrounded by a red glow and disappeared.  
  
"More magic," Connor hissed. He turned away from where Clarice had been. "Why do they always have to use magic?"  
  
The lecture hall was nothing but carnage. Dead bodies and vampire dust littered the room.  
  
Salome struggled to her feet, wheezing. She clutched the side of her head. "She was stronger than I'm used to."  
  
"She's stronger than most," Connor muttered. He looked down. "Are you all right?"  
  
Rubbing the back of her neck, Salome took deep breaths. "Luckily vampires have no taste for demon blood. Doesn't stop them from trying to break my neck though."  
  
Connor sniffed the air. He searched around frantically. "Someone is still alive in here."  
  
He ran up the aisle of the lecture hall, tracking down the scent. He stopped dead when he saw the crumpled form. "Jamie."  


* * *

  
  
Jules sat cross-legged on the couch, books surrounding her. Avril Lavigne was playing loudly over the stereo. She tapped her pen in rhythm.  
  
The door opened and Connor backed in. She smiled when she saw him. "Hey Connor! What are you--" Her smiled faded when she saw he was carrying Jamie.  
  
"Jules, we need your help." Connor carried Jamie across the room, going towards his bedroom.  
  
Jules pushed the books off her lap, jumping up. Her gaze lingered on Salome for a long moment, before following behind Connor. "What happened?"  
  
"He hit his head," Connor explained as he laid Jamie down on his bed.  
  
Jules nodded, eyes wide. She knelt down next to Jamie, stroking his hair. She looked up at Connor. "And how does that explain what happened to you?"  
  
Connor put a hand to his face, still stained with blood. At least Salome had the sense to put her glamour back on before leaving the lecture hall. "Don't worry. Just had a rough night. Can you take care of him?"  
  
Jules nodded frantically. "Of course. But... What?"  
  
"He should be all right," Salome said gently. "But someone should stay with him. Looks like he knocked himself pretty hard in the head."  
  
Connor shook his head and strode to the door, pushing Salome out of the way. Salome looked to the still opened door, then back to Jamie and Jules. "I'm gonna--" She pointed outside. "Sorry."  
  
She ran out, leaving Jules alone with her unconscious brother.  


* * *

  
Connor stared at his face in the bathroom mirror. The vampire's hits had left various cuts and bruises all over him. He rested his elbow on the edge of the sink and rested his head in his hands.  
  
The door swung open and Salome strode in. She closed the door, leaning against it. She cocked a brow, staring at Connor.  
  
Connor raised his head, looking around. He furrowed his brow. "Do you often walk into occupied bathrooms without knocking?"  
  
"I do when I know the guy inside is just brooding and not actually using the facilities." She manoeuvred in beside Connor, turning on the water. She tested it with her hand. She then muttered something under her breath, returning to demon form.  
  
Connor frowned at her, cocking his head. "Why'd you do that?"  
  
"The glamour diverts from what little power I have. I'm stronger and I heal faster like this." She picked up a towel and put it under the water. She rung it out and placed the damp cloth against Connor's face. She gently began to wipe the blood off of him. "Your roommate will be fine."  
  
"He's lucky," Connor muttered, looking down. Salome caressed his cheek with the wet cloth. He shied away from the touch, turning to face the window. He leaned against it, staring down to the street. "Those vamps were ready to kill everyone there."  
  
Salome touched his shoulder. "But you stopped them."  
  
Connor shook his head, shrugging Salome's hand off of him. "They stopped themselves because I was there."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You heard her, didn't you?" Connor gripped the trim of the window. "It was a message for me. When we got there, they stopped feeding. Those people died because of me."  
  
Salome grabbed Connor's shoulder, forcing him to turn and look at her. "They died because vampires are evil, not because of you. Sure, maybe those vampires wanted to draw you out, but that doesn't make it your fault. Keep the blame where it belongs."  
  
"Bad things happen around me," Connor whispered.  
  
Salome shook her head. "Bad things happen everywhere. You just notice them."  
  
She winced, rubbing her neck. Connor furrowed his brow. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Sore." She ran her tongue over her fangs. "It's going to take me a few days to recover, especially if I keep on having to use my glamour."  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Salome shrugged. "It's not your fault. Well--" She smiled. "Actually, this area," she gestured to her nose. "Hurts the most so it is kind of your fault."  
  
"Maybe you should go back to your dorm." Connor frowned. "It's probably not a good idea to hang around here in your demon form. Not with Jamie and Jules here."  
  
"You know, people are more accepting than you think." Salome said, smiling at him.  
  
Connor didn't smile back. He narrowed his gaze. "Just how many people have you told about being a demon?"  
  
Salome's smile faded. She looked down, flustered. "Um, including you?"  
  
She shifted to her human form and gasped, doubling over. Connor dropped the cloth, grabbing her. "Are sure you're all right?"  
  
"Really not as strong like this," she wheezed. "But I don't think the deep purple will go over well in public."  
  
Connor kept his arm firmly around Salome's waist. "Come on. I'll walk you to your dorm."  
  
"You saw me take out a couple of vamps," she rasped. "I'm pretty tough."  
  
"Yeah, you look very tough at the moment." Connor helped her out of the bathroom. "Come on. While my sense of chivalry holds."  
  
He led her across the living room. He looked back at Jamie's door, wincing. He wanted to make sure Jamie was okay, but... He couldn't be around comatose people. Not after what he saw tonight.  
  
"Who is she?"  
  
Connor frowned at Salome as they walked down the hallway. "The vampire? I don't know."  
  
Salome shook her head. "No. The woman. The one that vampire pretended to be. You were chasing her."  
  
Walking down the stairs slowly, Connor couldn't meet Salome's gaze. "Someone I knew a lifetime ago."  
  
"You loved her, didn't you?"  
  
He didn't answer. They remained silent the rest of the way outside.  
  
Once outside he lifted his head, smelling the night air. "You can transform back. There's no one around." He couldn't answer that question. He never allowed himself to think about Cordelia, about that life. Besides, he didn't know if he really knew what love was. Everything was so jumbled together.  
  
Salome gasped in relief as she morphed back. She panted hard. "God, that is a real bitch." She gave Connor a weak smile, realising her question wasn't going to be answered. "I can walk by myself now." She slipped out of his grasp. "Thanks. For everything. You know, I'm not always that pathetic. I've just never dealt with that many."  
  
Connor wasn't listening. He began to pace, furrowing his brow. He hadn't fought that many in a long time either. The last time he had fought that many was when the sun was blotted from the sky. He turned back to Salome. "You've fought for two years here."  
  
Salome nodded. "Yeah. I have. Why?"  
  
He looked down again, thinking of how many more he fought in the last month. "How many did you fight?"  
  
"I didn't keep track." She shifted, looking away. Connor glanced up, seeing her uncomfortable movements. "I mean, a vamp here and demon there..."  
  
"How many?"  
  
Salome bit her lip. "Three, maybe four a month."  
  
Connor strode back to her, looking into her dark eyes. "And now? How many now?"  
  
Salome met his intense gaze. "Six, seven.... A week."  
  
He turned away, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair. "Since school started again. Since the last time I was here."  
  
"Yes."  
  
The word hit him hard. He shut his eyes. They wanted him to be in the game, to be the Destroyer. The demons, the death... They were his fault. They were calling him out.  
  
"Connor?" Salome whispered.  
  
Connor turned back to her. He took a deep breath, trying to mask the pain he knew was evident on his face. "You didn't do bad."  
  
"Thanks." Salome frowned. "Are you all right?"  
  
"Yeah. I'll be fine." He hoped she believed it. He sure didn't.  
  
They stood in uncomfortable silence for a long moment. Both of them kept diverting their gaze.  
  
"I..." Salome cleared her throat. "Later, Ace."  
  
She began to walk, limping slightly. She paused and turned. "Connor, if you ever need any help..."  
  
Connor nodded. "Yeah. I know." He wanted to believe she would be there, that he wouldn't have to do this alone. But that's how he had always been. That's what this life always left him.  


* * *

  
  
Connor stood in the doorway of Jamie's room. He leaned against the doorframe, watching Jules looked down on her brother.  
  
"Any change?" He asked after a long moment.  
  
Jules shrugged, turning to Connor. "I don't really know what I'm supposed to be looking for. Medicine is not my strong suit. You know, if Jamie were awake, I bet he could tell us exactly when he would wake up. He's annoyingly good at being smart." She sniffled. "What happened?"  
  
"Gang." Connor blurted out. "I don't know what they wanted, or... It was really weird." It wasn't a complete lie. It was a gang and it was weird, but he knew exactly what they wanted.  
  
"It's really scary... Seeing him like this." Jules's hands shook. She folded them, putting them in her lap. "I mean I bug him all the time, but I don't know what I would do if anything were too..."  
  
"He'll be fine," Connor assured her, kneeling in front of Jules. He took her shaking hands. "I know this kind of thing. He was just knocked out."  
  
"Not the best thing that can happen to a guy." Jules whispered.  
  
"Not the worst," Connor replied, his voice weaker than he had wanted. "Believe me."  
  
"Ow...." Jamie touched his head as he sat up. He blinked, trying to focus on his surroundings.  
  
Connor jumped to his feet, looking down at his friend.  
  
"Oh my god!" Jules threw her arms around Jamie's neck, hugging him tightly. "I was so worried!"  
  
"Argh!" Jamie winced. "Give a guy some room, will ya, kid?"  
  
Jules moved back. She stood beside Connor. "Sorry."  
  
"Are you okay?" Connor frowned. "You hit your head really hard."  
  
Jamie hissed in a breath, lying back down. He winced again. "That was the weirdest thing I ever saw... What did I see?"  
  
Connor stepped backwards, inching his way towards the door. Jamie could have been killed. Those vampires would have killed everyone in the room if he hadn't arrived. When he had gotten there, Clarice had let them go.  
  
The message hadn't been the sound beating Clarice had given him, or the taunts she had spat about Cordelia and his weakness. The message had been that more would die if he refused to fight.  
  
"...I'm not sure." Connor said. He shrugged. "I mean, I found you unconscious."  
  
Salome knowing was one thing. She was part of the mystical world. She could understand what he was. Jamie and Jules wouldn't be able to. Connor knew him well enough to know that. Jamie liked things to make sense. As much as he loved comic books, he doubted Jamie would like living with someone who was....  
  
What was he? A hero? Hardly. The fake Cordelia had called him one, but he knew he wasn't.  
  
He was just Connor. He was the son of Colleen and Lawrence Riley; he was the son of two vampires. He was a computer science major; he was a hunter. Neither set of memories was stronger than the others. They all melded together, making him what he was now.  
  
Jamie wouldn't understand that. Jules might, if only because of her crush on him. He didn't want either of them to know. They were normal, not involved in the world of the mystical. Maybe if Jamie and Jules stayed normal, he would still be able to cling to some semblance of peace.  
  
Jules was looking not at her brother, but at Connor. She frowned at him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine," Connor replied. "It's just been a really weird night."  
  
Jules turned back to Jamie. "I'm going to get you some water." As she passed by Connor, she paused. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Thanks for helping him." She left quietly.  
  
"Are you sure you don't know what happened?" Jamie asked after Jules had left.  
  
Connor shook his head. "Sorry. I saw some people. I didn't get a good look at them."  
  
"I think they were on steroids or something," Jamie muttered. "It was... Like you said, weird."  
  
Connor looked down at the floor. "Steroids. Yeah. Sounds about right."  
  
Jamie sat up. "Connor, can you do me a favour?"  
  
"Yeah." Connor sat down beside Jamie. "What is it?"  
  
Jamie's pale cheeks flushed red. "Don't tell anyone I was hit by a girl."  
  
Connor managed a smile. "No problem."  
  
"Do you think we'll see those guys again?"  
  
He looked away. He didn't know how to respond. He knew it wasn't over. There was no way the vampires were going to leave it at a simple message. They had plans for him.  
  
As for his plans, he didn't know what to do. He just knew he couldn't do it alone. Angel had only been as strong as he was with his friends beside him. If it weren't for them, he would have still been at the bottom of the ocean.  
  
As the Destroyer, Connor's weakness lay in his solitude. It had been the separation from Angel that Cordelia-Jasmine-Whatever had been able to manipulate him. He couldn't let Jamie and Jules in on his secret, but maybe--  
  
"I have to go." Connor got up. "Take care of yourself."  
  
He strode to the door, clenching his fists. He steeled his nerves. His stomach was writhing. He opened the door, gritting his teeth.  
  
Jamie called after him, sitting up. He blinked, squinting at the clock. "It's nearly midnight. Where are you going?"  
  
Connor turned back to Jamie. He smiled weakly. "Somewhere I don't want to."  


* * *

  
  
Connor hesitated in front of the door, hand raised to knock. He pulled his hand back, dropping it to his side.  
  
Now that he had come all this way, doubt was starting to creep in. Did he really want to do this? Did he want to open himself up to all of this again?  
  
No, he really didn't. But he didn't have much of a choice any longer.  
  
He rapped his knuckles against the door. He could hear the movement inside the hotel room.  
  
There was time. He could still run. He didn't have to do this. He could be halfway home before the door opened.  
  
No, running would do no good. He had tried running from who-- what-- he was for months now. Maybe if he hadn't, those people wouldn't have died in the lecture hall.  
  
The door opened. Andrew stood in front of him in plaid pyjama pants and an oversized t-shirt bearing the image of Wolverine. "Oh." He brought his hands to his hair, trying to fix the messy locks. "I wasn't expecting you to come by so soon."  
  
Connor pushed past him, going inside the hotel room. There was a half-empty pizza box on the bed. Boxes filled with books littered the room.  
  
He kept his back to Andrew, hearing the door click close and Andrew walking towards him. After a long moment, he looked up. "What does a Watcher do?"  
  
Andrew nodded. "A very good question. A Watcher trains a Slayer, guides them on their mission to fight demons. They provide the information they need to successful slay."  
  
"I'm not a Slayer," Connor looked back down at the dirty tan carpet.  
  
"Are you so sure?" Andrew circled Connor. "A Slayer is a human imbued with the powers of a demon to be able to fight the forces of darkness. Maybe there's never been a male Slayer before..." He smiled. "But things have been changing a lot lately."  
  
Connor looked at his hands. Traces of blood still clung to his skin. "Angel told me the demons are here to get me."  
  
Andrew nodded. "I was told that."  
  
Connor looked up, taking a deep breath. "If I were to leave, they'd still be here, wouldn't they?"  
  
"A sleepy little town with lots of tasty college students and no superhero?"  
  
Connor's heart sank. He had known that deep inside. No matter what, he had condemned this town. If he were to try running, the demons would keep killing. "It's all my fault."  
  
"If you run away and let them take over, then it's your fault." Andrew stepped closer to him. "But if you stay and fight..."  
  
He began to pace the room. He didn't want anyone else to die because of him. His whole life people had died just because of him. Hell, his mother died just so he could live. He shook his head. "No more. No more die because of me."  
  
"What are you going to do to stop it?" Andrew asked.  
  
"I'm not the Destroyer. I can't be him anymore." He stopped pacing. "But I'm not Connor Riley. No matter how much I try to pretend, neither of those people is real anymore." He shrugged, smiling sadly. "At the end of the day, I'm me." He sighed. "I'm just not sure who that is anymore."  
  
He stepped towards Andrew. "Until I figure that out, I need help."  
  
Andrew smiled, nodding as he clapped Connor in the shoulder. "You've just taken your first step into a new world."  


* * *

  
Clarice sauntered into her lair, smiling broadly. She had returned to her human face, blood still clinging to her mouth.  
  
Her Master's back was to her as he looked out the window. The hood was pulled off of his head.  
  
"How did it go?"  
  
Clarice ran her thumb over the corner of her mouth, collecting the blood there. She sucked it into her mouth, smiling. "It went very well, Master."  
  
She threw herself into his throne. She shifted, trying to get comfortable. She rested in a sprawl. "I think he got the message. He came, with demon help. Not that his friend did much good. He resisted quite a bit. You were right. Cordelia Chase still affects him deeply."  
  
"His false memories can never erase what has already happened." Clarice's Master rasped out a laugh. "Cordelia, his fathers, his isolation... They are his weakness. I know this better than anyone."  
  
"He isn't quite there yet." Clarice purred. "I began to feel the Destroyer, but he still clings to the lies. It will be a time before we can finally bring him out."  
  
Turning slowly, he faced Clarice. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce smiled. "Well. It's a start."

 

* * *

 

**Special Guest Star**

Alexis Denisof


End file.
